


Poison

by orphan_account



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 04:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11372661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Working with radioactive lab equipment and gamma rays has its downsides.





	Poison

Black Hat had been enormously annoyed when Dr. Flug had fallen ill. Even though he knew it probably wasn’t Flug’s fault, Black Hat had pushed Flug to do more than his fair share of work. It was just nausea, it would pass, and the more he got done now the less he would have to catch up later. Wasn’t that the best thing to do about sick employees?

The nausea, unfortunately, didn’t pass. It got worse, in fact, and whatever Flug was sick with eventually manifested some slightly scarier symptoms.

Black Hat reclined in his favourite chair, attempting to compose a letter to a Mr. Whateley that had requested a massive containment device for his half-brother (bit of an odd request, but Black Hat rarely judged). It would have been finished an hour ago, but Black Hat couldn’t find himself able to concentrate from the muffled thumping from the floor above. It sounded like someone, or even two people, were shuffling across the floor and banging into everything in sight. It wasn’t loud enough to be 5.0.5 up there - the bear weighed around four hundred pounds.

“Dementia! Stop that noise!” Black Hat snarled as he heard something fragile above him shattered. He stood, throwing the unfinished letter to the floor, and stormed to the stairs. “I swear, if that’s another one of my priceless collectibles being thrown around, I’ll put your heads on a pike…”

Black Hat’s anger quickly turned to confusion, then repulsion as he reached the top of the stairs.

Flug was on the floor, hissing through his teeth and trying to sit up. The bottom of his bag had been torn off, giving Black Hat a glimpse of uneven teeth and strings of blood hanging from his mouth and nose. Dementia knelt behind him, attempting to restrain the flailing doctor. 5.0.5 stood over a shattered Ming dynasty vase, apparently torn between helping their creator and cleaning up the mess. 

“What in Tartarus happened here?” Black Hat had never seen Flug, much less any other human, act like that before. He leaned back, slightly concerned. “Is it contagious?”

“Gotta get a - gotta get up -” Flug clawed at the air, then at Dementia’s hands. “Mneed a schweissen kopf ich vith…”

“I dunno. He smashed into the wall, then the vase, and then this started happening. It looked like he couldn’t breathe, so I ripped open the bag.” 

5.0.5 whined and snorted, making clumsy hand sign with his paws in front of Flug’s face. What need?

“Mgg… neeshyum.” Flug tried to hold up two fingers. “Mungneese - mgna shum. Tvelfenn. Twe..tvel -” 

Black Hat simply watched and waited until Flug stopped struggling and lay still in Dementia’s arms. He leaned closer to Flug, examining the gasping doctor’s face as he slowly came around. “Are you quite done, now?”

Flug blinked, startled, and put a hand to his face. “What happened?” He stared vacantly at the blood on his glove. “Did I have a… seizure?”  
“Dunno.” Dementia finally released Flug. “Were you looking at flashing lights lately?”

Flug ignored her, putting his head in his hands. “Oh, no no, this isn’t a good sign… maybe it was right after all. But I’m sure I read it correctly…”  
“Read what?”

“N-nothing, sir.”  
Black Hat mostly forgot about the episode, though his worry didn’t completely disappear. He still wondered what had made Flug ill, and had to ask what it was.

“I believe it’s acute radiation poisoning, sir,” Flug eventually said. “I’m sorry. This is usually very serious, and there is no cure. My expected lifespan is… not long.”  
A cold tightness crept through Black Hat’s chest as he heard the news. Was this what fear felt like? Or was it simply another form of anger at the possibility of Flug - his Flug - being taken away? Surely not. “We will see about that,” he said through gritted teeth.

Flug began being more careful around dangerous equipment, donning extra protection against radiation. He forbade anyone from entering the lab, in the fear they might be exposed as well. Black Hat ignored the warnings, especially when Flug began coughing up blood. The villain was incredibly powerful, but one of the few things he could not do was alter life and death. That was the job of Death, and Death alone.

That didn’t stop Black Hat from trying, though.

“Hello?” Death’s voice rasped on the other side of the line. Contrary to popular belief, eldritch entities like Death usually had some sort of phone or hotline. Most could only be reached in exchange for fresh blood, though.  
“Yes… this is Black Hat, of Black Hat Inc. I would like to buy more time for one of my employees.”

Death laughed. It sounded like dry leaves rustling. “Oh, Hat. You again. I made you a deal already, didn’t I?” Another laugh. “I’m tickled. More time… what’s the name?”  
“Dr. Flug Slys.”

A tapping sound, like bone on a keyboard, came over the line. “Slys… oh. Ohhh. I see. He has… two months.“  
A tiny wave of fear wrapped in anger swept through Black Hat. He squeezed the receiver, imagining it was Death’s neck. “Two months?! That’s all? You… give me more time for him. Now! Name your price.”

Death hummed. “Don’t shout, Hat, I can do something. I can give you… thirty more years.”  
Black Hat grimaced. Still a blink of an eye to someone like him, who had existed for millennia, but it was something. “That’s better. And the price?”

“Your agony.” Death cackled again. “I can give him thirty years… but not cure his condition. Thirty years of terrible pain, seizures, constant vomiting… he’ll wish he was dead. You want to torture him like that, Hat?”Black Hat slammed the phone down, cracking it, and put his face in his hands. Two months, or thirty years of this? As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, Black Hat did care for Flug. Just a tiny bit… not too little to consign him to decades of radiation poisoning. He made a mental not to mark the calendar sixty days out.


End file.
